Golden Tint
by Gemenied
Summary: An evening going not so bad.


Title: Golden Tint

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really.

Summary: An evening going not so bad. - Good Lord, I suck at summaries.

A/N: Just a little something from me - little plot, but observations that somehow came together. A relief effort for all the busy people :-). Major fluff-warning. Many, many thanks to Joodiff for the beta and the encouragement. All remaining mistakes are mine.

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 **Golden Tint**

He can't say that this is what he really wanted to do this evening, but there are things a man hast to do in order to keep things calm on the home front. He knows it's not the most flattering description, it's not even how he really views this outing, but if it hadn't been for Grace and the fact that she had been looking forward to it for days, he would have definitely found a way to extricate himself from this engagement.

Of course, there are a lot of positives to be said for it, for the food is very good and the wine naturally excellent. The atmosphere is inviting, cosy and generally very good too. He wouldn't expect it any other way. Not with the two women involved.

There's also a lot to be said about feeding his curiosity. As much as Grace and he have shared about their lives in the last months, and the names of their current companions have come up quite a few times, Grace isn't prone to sharing secrets that are not her own. She's given him little more than the bare facts, which sound ridiculous as such, but must therefore be true, but gaining insight himself is certainly something else.

So, he sits and sips on his wine, occasionally picking some of the antipasti on the table, his free hand firmly settled on the back of Grace's chair, and listens and watches. What he can see gives him plenty to digest.

It's easy to gauge that the woman on the opposite side of the table is far more interesting than her husband, but of that Boyd had been sure even before meeting them both. Happily married, for a long time, hard times behind them. He would have guessed that even without knowing the facts. It's in the way they sit next to each other; in the way they exchange quick glances and gestures, while she is firmly and almost independently involved in her two-sided conversation with Grace that leaves their male companions out.

Boyd isn't even certain that they are still speaking English. In fact, they aren't. It draws him to a stop for a second, before he picks up the long-suffering smile of the other man.

"One of the many I never mastered," he says quietly.

Boyd can only nod, wondering at the implications behind the words.

"She lost me at some German, a bit of French and a few leftovers of Kiswahili," the other explains quietly with a nod at his wife. "I'm a doctor, not a language computer," he adds with a shake of his head.

His wife briefly interrupts her flow of words to give him a questioning look, her hands never stopping their movements. He only smiles and shakes his head reassuringly, making her pause for another second, before she turns back to Grace picking up mid-sentence again.

The brief interlude is enough for Boyd to pull Grace a little closer against his side. She willingly follows, completely at ease with the move and in the company. He doesn't need to see her face to know that the animation in Grace's expression has deepened, enhanced by the smile that flits over her features.

All in all, it is warm and cosy and very relaxed a state all four of them are in.

"Did you try to keep up?" Boyd asks, more in terms of starting some sort of exchange than real need for knowledge.

The other man still has his gaze fastened on his wife, seemingly pleased to see elation and a smile on her face as well.

"Not really. It was a lost cause from the beginning."

"But...?" Boyd asks, sensing a story from the other man's tone.

This time the other turns his full attention on Boyd. "Took me a long time to come to terms with the limitations of my abilities, compared to hers." Again he nods at his wife. "She's always been so much..." He pauses for a moment, starts again. "People wondered, why she chose me. I'm sure Grace is still wondering about it. My ego didn't cope too well with that. Or with the realizations that trickled in about just what she had accomplished before we ever met."

He strokes his wife's shoulder, only stopping when her hand covers his and it is such a natural, unconscious gesture that without noticing it, Boyd all but mirrors them, pulling Grace even further against him.

He catches the eyes of the woman on the other side of the table, sees the approving glint in there and suddenly smiles.

The other couple is at least ten years older than they are, and though Boyd doesn't feel too comfortable in their presence yet, there is certain kinship he recognises. The man will probably not be his best friend, in fact, he considers him slightly boring, but the words ring home.

He's been asking that question more than once. Himself. Grace.

He feels that others have asked the question. Not him. But possibly Grace.

He still isn't certain about the answer. His own. Grace's.

"The lovely thing about loving somebody is that you don't have to explain it to anybody. If they have to ask why, they won't understand your answer." The woman is regarding him suddenly, smiling serenely. She looks a bit like she knows all the secrets of the world and it stops Boyd short.

Grace has this same expression sometimes, this 'I just know'-expression, which annoys him at times. At other times though, he finds it very reassuring.

So he nods.

That woman is one of Grace's best friends. Stood there in her hospital room one afternoon, making him squirm in his shoes through her scrutiny. An excellent doctor, of world renown, Boyd knows that.

Independent, quirky, dangerously smart, very learned, with a sardonic kind of humour. Nobody's fool. A lot like Grace.

"Was that your answer?" he asks.

The woman chuckles quickly and shakes her head. "Mine usually involved a lot more shouting."

Boyd raises an eyebrow; a quick side glance confirms that Grace is smirking.

"My brothers were very deaf on that ear."

"And very quick with their fists," Grace chips in, her smirk turning into a full-blown chuckle. "Always was a bit of a show seeing you trying to force them to do your bidding."

"Definitely entertaining for everybody not involved," the other woman sardonically adds.

"Why?"

The husband shakes his head before he answers. "My brothers-in-law all towered over her, but cowered before her will."

The image is almost perfect, for the woman is short, barely coming up to his shoulder. Like Grace. Never stopped Grace either. Boyd smiles, his left hand giving Grace's shoulder a quick, gentle squeeze. "I can imagine. Did you ever convince them?" he asks, before realizing it.

Suddenly the atmosphere is laden.

The question is very important, the answer even more so. Just how much it is so, he didn't expect, but from the way Grace suddenly tenses, Boyd realizes how much hinges on it. These people are Grace's friends, have been for decades. If they accept their relationship, others will too. Not because they say so, but because it is right. And good.

The other couple seems to be aware of it as well and exchange a short glance. Hours of conversation seem to pass in that glance, years of understanding and of love too. Gradually, Boyd realizes what the answer will be. He can feel it in the way Grace relaxes against him.

"I didn't. Time did. Eventually, it was just a fact of life. A good one."

Grace gives his knee a quick squeeze, nuzzling further into his side and warmth and relaxation settles around the table again.

There is kinship and Boyd can easily envision the future. There'll be more evenings like this, barbecues on summer evenings in either their backyard, or at Grace's or his house. He'll meet the other man for the occasional golf or tennis match, where they'll exchange stories about their respective ladies. There might even be the rare joint city break somewhere on the continent, where he'll see places he didn't ever imagine wanting to see and experience.

It's a strangely calm and domestic future. With a certain golden tint to it. Boyd sees it as if it is already a memory, something he is and can be sure of. It's a strange feeling, one he didn't expect to ever have. Not after everything that's happened.

But, much like this evening turns out to be, it is good.

The waiter interrupts his musings by replacing the carafe of wine and announcing the imminent serving of their main course, but Boyd isn't much disturbed.

He can feel Grace's gaze on him, turns to look into her eyes. They are bright with happy serenity. That… is even better.

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Thank you for reading. Comments would be greatly appreciated.


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